


The Secret Admirer

by FaeOrabel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Desk Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Minor Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Minor Luna Lovegood/Harry Potter, Not Canon Compliant, Office Sex, Pansexual Character, Secret Admirer, Smut, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, pansexual Hermione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22704601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeOrabel/pseuds/FaeOrabel
Summary: When the Ministry mandates mail boxes be put on the outside of everyone’s offices for a Valentine’s Day valentine exchange, single and proud Hermione Granger cannot contain her hatred of the idea. But when a surprise greets her on the most love-filled day of the year, she can’t help but be transported back to her Hogwart’s days and a certain secret admirer. Voldemort died/no horcruxes AU. Rivalry between Slytherins and Gryffindor was just house pride based.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 36
Kudos: 327
Collections: Strictly Dramione Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange Fest





	The Secret Admirer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RiverWriter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverWriter/gifts).



> This fic is a Strictly Dramione Valentine's Day Fic Exchange Fest 2020 piece. 
> 
> My prompt was: "The mailbox was overflowing."
> 
> My fic is a gift for the ever-lovely RiverWriter!
> 
> Hope you like it!
> 
> And big, huge, loud shoutout to wordsmithmusings for being the best beta on the planet. Literally love you so much.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own HP and anything you recognize belongs to JKR. I'm just playing in her sandbox and stealing all her toys.

for: RiverWriter

**The Secret Admirer**

“I’m just saying, I think it’s completely and totally inappropriate for a professional setting,” Hermione huffed.

Lavender rolled her eyes, “So you’ve said, for about the fifteenth time, Hermione. I honestly think it’s cute! Plus, it may help you find someone you’d be interested in dating. You’re kind of intimidating to approach, love.” She said this with care in her voice but Hermione can’t help but flinch internally. 

Taking a bite of her sandwich at the lunch spot she and Lavender visit every Monday and Wednesday, Hermione tried to understand Lavender’s point of view on the memo they received this morning. Her new boss, a rather eccentric fellow, decided he wanted to increase department wide morale by implementing a Valentine’s Day event. Along with the memo detailing the event, their thoughtful new boss included a small mailbox to affix outside their office doors. Throughout the week leading up to Valentine’s Day, which was a Friday this year, people would be able to go around the whole of the department and drop off valentine’s in other people’s mailboxes - and remain anonymous. They could be friendly or love-inspired, as long as everyone sent at least one valentine to someone else. "To build morale, and remind us all of the power of love," the memo concluded.

“Well, honestly, I think if you can’t admit your feelings to me in person, what is a stupid valentine supposed to do?” Hermione asked, trying to focus back on the discussion. Lavender had it easy. She’d probably get several valentine’s and not just from her fiance. “At least you have Ron, you’re guaranteed at least one valentine. I see the way the guys in the office look at you. If you weren’t engaged to be married, you’d have a line of suitors, Lav.”

Hermione was trying not to sulk, she really was, but the truth of the matter was not that she was offended by this event because of how inappropriate it was - even if it _was_ inappropriate - she was truthfully worried she wouldn’t receive a single valentine. 

She wasn’t gorgeous like Lavender. She wasn’t friendly like Parvati. Nor did she have that endearing air of mystery like Luna. No guys so far had shown interest in her. Not that she’s helped that cause. Hermione wasn’t the kind of girl to pander and simper to male attention. If you wanted to get Hermione’s affections, you’d have to do better than just simply asking her if she was busy that weekend. 

“Hermione, if you say you aren’t pretty _one more time_ , I’m sorry, but I’m dumping my tea on you,” Lavender said innocently while taking a small sip. “You are gorgeous. You just don’t see it. Not that I haven’t told you this before, but you have this wild, untamed beauty. It’s really quite something.”

Hermione scoffed, “It’s not that I think I’m ugly. I just don’t see anything _special_ when I look in the mirror.”

“Well, if you’re worried about not getting any valentines, I think you don’t have anything to worry about. Didn’t you receive some when we were in Hogwarts?” Lavender finished eating a few bites behind Hermione, and thanked her friend as she started gathering their trash. The two friends exited the shop and walked back to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. 

“Other than from the girls," Hermione finally replied, "plus Harry and Ron who _don’t count_ , only one. Every year without fail, I’d receive an anonymous letter and a box of my favorite chocolates I discovered when I was in France with my parents.” Hermione paused, shocked she just now remembered her old secret admirer. 

“You had a secret admirer?” Lavender squealed, “And you never told us?”

“Well, nothing came from it, did it?” Hermione grumbled, continuing to walk. 

“I wonder if he works in the department and you’ll get a new card this year,” Lavender sighed, her romantic side coming out.

“The odds he or she work in the same department as me after all these years of never revealing themselves is slim,” Hermione admitted, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. 

“Even a slim chance is still a chance,” Lavender shrugged. “Wait, he or _she_? Couldn’t you tell? From the handwriting or something?”

“No, it was the most beautiful handwriting I’ve ever seen. So after the third year in a row, I had to admit it might be a girl writing to me. It would make sense she never revealed herself if that’s the case, I’ve never been exactly open about my sexual preferences.”

“Are you open to it being a woman?” Lavender questioned as they walked through the Ministry to the lifts. 

“If I actually get a new one this year? I don’t care one way or the other. I always figured when I do fall in love, it’d be with a specific person, not their gender.” Hermione pressed the number for their floor and was lost in thought to their last days at Hogwarts.

She and Lavender hadn’t really started off as friends, but Hermione slowly got used to the increased female company after a couple years. 

By fourth year, the girls who had shared a dorm since their first day were inseparable. They just had to come to terms with the fact they all shared different interests. Unlike the boys, who would constantly ask Hermione for help on her homework, the girls were content to do their homework together in silence occasionally asking for small clarification on obscure subjects. 

The time Ron had finally broken down and just asked Hermione to do his homework _for_ him had solidified Hermione’s study habits. She left the boys to fend for themselves and studied with the girls from then on. Harry didn’t understand why he was being punished, too, but Hermione had simply shrugged and said, “don’t act like you haven’t thought it, too,” to which Harry begrudgingly admitted he had. 

Once seventh year had started, Hermione was convinced she would be friends with her dorm mates - Lavender, Parvati, Fay Dunbar, and Emily Parsons - for the rest of her life, especially Lavender and Parvati since they had plans to go into the same field of work after school. Fay and Ginny joined the Holyhead Harpies, and Emily went to work at the Quibbler for Luna. 

In a move that shocked everyone except her dorm mates, Fay and Ginny got together once Gin realized she was open to women seventh year. Harry and Luna then discovered their mutual pining after graduation, and Ron and Lav had been together since fifth year when Hermione - in a fit - had finally pushed the two together, tired of Lavender’s uncharacteristic shyness. 

Another thing Hermione had been sure of her seventh year was that her secret admirer would _finally_ come clean. She was so excited once Valentine’s Day hit that she was practically vibrating the whole day. But when nothing happened that day other than the usual classes, friend hang outs, and being annoyed by Draco Malfoy’s incessant teasing, Hermione’s mood had plummeted. 

She then thought maybe it would still come, but weeks passed. Then months. Finally graduation hit and… nothing. So, she put it from her mind and focused on her career. Even if her heart hurt a little at the thought of never knowing.

Lavender, Parvati, and Hermione joined the DRCMC - an interest that was mostly Hermione’s doing when she wholeheartedly encouraged their interest in magical creatures and made them realize how utterly unreliable Divination was - and quickly rose in the ranks. They each had their own specialty when it came to projects. 

Parvati liked traveling and field research. Lavender excelled at improving the public image of previously despised creatures by working with the media and Prophet. Hermione did well partnering with the Magical Law Department by changing biased regulations and writing new, fair regulations. 

Shockingly, through this partnership, she had befriended Blaise Zabini who became a magical lawyer after school with Malfoy. They opened their own practice once they realized they weren’t getting to where they wanted quick enough and couldn’t take cases on _their_ terms. 

Blaise had been the one to suggest the idea after his boss rejected one of Hermione’s claims for the fifth time. He and Hermione had worked tirelessly on creating a case to outlaw the development of housing and business on previously sacred land for the unicorn populations around the world. Anyone with a brain could see that threatening a unicorns place in a magical community was a heinous oversight that would no doubt have consequences on the community itself. However, Quinton Sludgeworth - Blaise’s boss - disliked involving his company in seemingly ‘controversial’ affairs. He wanted his company to only take on cases from wealthy, pureblooded clients with a grievance against another person. 

Hermione was the one who connected the pureblood issue, for Sludgeworth had never come and outright voiced his prejudice. The thing that surprised Hermione was Malfoy’s own outrage at the connection. Blaise, she understood, but she had always assumed one of the things that made Malfoy so arrogant was his pride in his “pure” lineage. 

Malfoy, with an - adorably, even if Hermione wouldn’t admit it out loud - confused face, had set her straight that he didn’t believe in all the ‘pureblood’ nonsense. His family even had mingling bloodlines - even if his father didn't like to admit it. The term pureblood really only applied to a family when it considered the current and previous five generations. If a family had only matched with other purebloods for five generations they were considered by high society as ‘pureblooded.’ The whole Sacred 28 list was more of a ‘societal pandering sham,’ he had said. People just used it to pretend they were better than others in social settings. 

The insight had given Hermione a lot to think about when it came to Malfoy’s teasing over the years. She started remembering details she hadn’t before. A playful smirk here, a twinkle in his eyes there. 

It confused her to a point that she just avoided thinking about it altogether. Her feelings for Malfoy were puzzling enough without these thoughts added to it.

Once the day came to a close, Hermione had exited her office to see most of her colleagues had already put their mailboxes up and others were doing so as they left.

She sighed and went back into her office to grab the asinine object and with a hasty sticking charm, it was affixed to her door. 

“There,” she grimaced at it, “at least I can’t be told off for not participating.” 

She left for the day and floo’d over to Grimmauld Place to see Harry, who had moved in with Sirius once he had finally been given a trial and found innocent. The Ministry ended up affording him plenty of reparations in a monetary sense and thought it was good enough to make up for the twelve years he had lost in Azkaban. 

After complaining at length about the event to Harry over a glass of fire whiskey, she shot him a glare when he abruptly started laughing. 

“I’m sorry, Hermione, but I truly think it’s hilarious that you think you’re not going to get a valentine,” he admitted and took a swig of his drink.

“I never said that,” Hermione grumbled into her glass, avoiding his eyes.

“I’ve known you since I was eleven,” he said with a straight face. “It’s written all over your demeanor.” 

“Even I can see that, love,” Sirius said from his place at the oven, making dinner for them plus Luna when she arrived. 

“Oh, do shut up,” she threw at Sirius and then turned back to Harry. “I mean, can you blame me? One secret admirer throughout my whole time at school doesn’t exactly make me feel like the most desirable woman on the planet.”

“Well, have you ever considered that maybe there was a reason you only ever received that one _true_ valentine?” Harry asked.

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, sitting up a little straighter in her chair.

“Like what if this person made sure they were the only one to try and gain your affection? I know for a fact a couple boys in Gryffindor and a few in Ravenclaw thought you were attractive.” Harry shrugged like this information _wasn’t_ absolutely important.

“You mean like threatening other people to _not_ send me gifts?” Hermione’s voice was a little shrill when she asked. Harry noticed the change immediately. 

“Maybe I’m mistaken…” He started shifting away from the fire in Hermione’s eyes. 

“Don’t even, Harry. You know you’re not.” 

“Well, I think that’s precious. It sounds like something I would do back in school to gain the attention of a girl who was more wrapped up in her assignments than boys,” Sirius chimed in while setting the table around them. “Granted, I was more into the… easier sort.” He threw a wink at Hermione and sat next to Harry while they waited for Luna. 

“It’s not _precious_ . It’s _barbaric_ . Who do they think they are, staking some claim on my person like I’m their favorite toy that _no one else can have_.” 

Sirius, the only one brave - or stupid - enough to deal with Hermione when she was like this, rolled his eyes. “Kitten, it’s school. Boys did that shit all the time. ‘Oi, Mary is off limits’ or ‘Flirt with Marlene again and I’ll have your head.’ Take it for what it is at face value and appreciate that someone _obviously_ didn’t just have a shallow crush on you if they knew your favorite chocolates _only available in France_ , mind you, and wanted to make sure they didn’t lose their chance before they lost it.”

“But they did lose it… They never admitted who they were. Still haven’t,” Hermione sighed and downed her glass as Luna showed up and the topic was dropped in favor of food and conversation with the spritely blonde girl.

As Hermione lay in bed that night, she couldn’t get her admirer out of her head. It had been five years since Hogwarts and she still didn’t know who it was that went to all that trouble years ago to show their affections. ‘Would they send me something this year like Lavender believes?’ she thought to herself as she drifted off with memories of chocolate on her tongue. 

* * *

  
  


No valentine’s showed up the next day or the day after or even the day after and Hermione’s mood became admittedly darker every time she saw that daft mailbox on her door. Blaise had showed up one day and stared at the thing for a solid five minutes, while listening to Hermione’s explanation of it, before laughing so hard he looked like he was going to fall out. 

Hermione sent a stinging hexat him, telling him to shut up, and the handsome wizard had apologized profusely so they could get down to business on their next case. 

Now it was the end of the work day on Thursday, and Hermione’s was the only mailbox to sit empty. Everyone else had received at least one or two other valentines from other staff members, even a couple people from other departments had dropped by and added to the fun. Hermione sent two, one to Lavender and one to Parvati, who in turn sent their own, but just handed them to the girl instead of dropping them into her mailbox. Hermione glared at the mailbox and thought about setting it on fire as she closed her office door to head to the lifts. 

That night Hermione drank an entire bottle of wine before bed. She definitely _did not_ think about Valentine’s Day and that horrible, empty mailbox on her office door. 

The next day, as Hermione walked in to work distracted by the papers Blaise had sent her that morning, she didn’t notice the interested and amused looks she was receiving from her coworkers. Blindly reaching for her doorknob, she finally looked up when a myriad of color broke through her periphery. 

“What the…” she whispered. 

The mailbox was overflowing. 

Absolutely filled to the brim. 

A couple valentines had even flitted to the floor, it was so full. 

Shoving her work in her bag, she looked around at her coworker’s small smirks before hastily gathering up each and every valentine and bringing them into her office. Shutting her door firmly, she went over to her desk and started reading through her valentines. She swore to the ends of the earth and back again, if Lavender had told _anyone_ in the department about how upset she’d been on not receiving a valentine and these were out of pity, she would make the blonde lose all of her hair.

Hermione quickly realized that wasn’t the case at all. 

Each and every one of them had the same gorgeous handwriting she remembered from her secret admirer at Hogwarts.

“No fucking way,” she whispered to herself. 

Every valentine was different. Different colors, shapes, paper quality. But each one listed a trait this person said they ‘love’ about her. And not just in a mundane way like, “I love your hair,” but an almost gagging romantic way such as, “I love the way I never know what color to call your hair, for it shines in the sun as a copper more precious than gold and darkens to a chocolate more rich than the most expensive confection that can be bought in any shop.” 

Hermione was floored. No one had ever done something like this before. The letters from school had been things her admirer found interesting about her. Never had they gone so far as to admit their _love_. 

Still Hermione couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. Here were all these reasons this person said they apparently ‘loved’ about her and yet, they still didn’t reveal who they were. Not one of the valentines was signed. And she checked them all.

Just as she was sorting them to shove in a drawer and forget about, there was a knock at her door. 

She tried not to get her hopes up as she slowly approached the door like it was an animal ready to pounce; she couldn't help the increase in heartbeat. 

When she finally turned the handle and swung the door open, there stood the _last_ person Hermione had ever expected, holding that famous box of chocolates from her favorite place in France. 

“Hey, Granger.” Malfoy said softly. Softer than she had ever heard him speak. He was in a pair of nice jeans, more casual than she usually saw him at work with his designer suits and Italian leather shoes, when muggle, and Acromantula silk robes, when wizard. It was obvious he had dressed more muggle for her. His sweater was a light shade of grey with a light blue t-shirt underneath and his hair was down and obviously styled straight. Hermione had to admit she liked it better this way than his usual buns she saw him in, having grown out his hair after school. 

“It was you?” she whispered as she looked back up into his eyes, blushing slightly at having given him such an obvious and thorough once over. 

He just smirked slightly and nodded his head. Handing her the chocolates, he fidgeted with the hem of his sweater slightly. Hermione realized with a start that he was nervous. 

She couldn’t recall if she had ever seen him nervous before. 

“Why… Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asked when she had taken the chocolate gratefully from him, and inviting him into her office with a nod of her head. Quickly shutting her door on the shocked faces of her colleagues and one positively beaming smile from Lavender. Throwing up a quick locking and silencing charm, she turned back to the man standing in the center of her office.

“I tried… But you kind of bit my head off that Valentine’s Day back in seventh year. So, I assumed you had found out it was me and my affection wasn’t returned.” 

Hermione thought back to that day years ago and realized when Malfoy had cornered her in the library, he hadn’t looked mischievous like he normally did when approaching her for teasing. He’d looked much like he did now - nervous and missing all the usual confidence he was known for around school and now work. No one wanted to ever face him in court for his sure way of arguing. He could make you believe your hair was purple when it was brown just with the way he spoke and the confidence he exuded from every pore. 

“How did you find out you were wrong?” she asked, walking over to her desk and setting the chocolates on top of the pile of valentines. 

“Blaise,” Malfoy said, “he mentioned your complaints and the mailbox. Said you had been grumbling under your breath the whole meeting about ‘stupid secret admirers’ and ‘stupid chocolates.’” Malfoy smirked, gaining back a little of his usual confidence when he realized he wasn’t going to receive a similar tongue-lashing like he had back in school. 

In truth, Hermione was at a loss for words. 

“Are they true?” she whispered, fearing this was all some elaborate and cruel prank years in the making. 

A blush more handsome, Hermione never did see. “Yes,” Malfoy whispered, equally as quiet. 

Throwing all caution to the wind, Hermione crossed to Malfoy, who looked like he was bracing for another signature punch like she had given back in third year. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her for a searing kiss. 

Malfoy recovered quickly and wrapped a bruising grip around her hips, pulling their bodies flush. 

Moaning slightly when his tongue lined the seam of her lips, she acquiesced entrance almost immediately. Their tongues fought her dominance as Hermione buried her fingers in his hair, tugging slightly. A breathy gasp from Malfoy’s lips against her went straight to her core and she felt like he had lit her on fire. 

Malfoy - Draco, she silently corrected - started backing her up until her bum hit the edge of her desk. Lifting her like she weighed no more than one of the valentines now drifting down to the floor, he sat her on the desk and settled between her thighs. Hermione moaned as he deepened the kiss even further. 

Feeling his arousal hitting her more sensitive body part, Hermione groaned in the back of her throat. 

“We shouldn’t do this here,” Hermione admitted while contrastingly removing her blouse and throwing it to the floor.

“Definitely,” Draco agreed as he shucked his sweater and turned his attention to her bra. 

“It’s against protocol,” she gasped as he grasped her breasts and started kneading them with a revential hunger. 

“Mmhmm,” Draco sighed as his lips found her neck and started leaving bruising kisses, only to stop when she began tugging at his shirt - essentially ripping his shirt over his head. 

“Beautiful,” she whispered, allowing her hands to drift over his chest and down to the button on his pants. “Everyone will know.”

He dropped his jeans over his hips to gather around his ankles and kicked them away like they offended him.

“Most certainly,” Draco nodded as he helped her pull her skirt off as she lifted her hips from her seat on the desk. 

Gaze locked on his prominent erection trying to burst out of his shorts, she bit her lip and pulled his hips so was back between her thighs. 

“People will talk,” she argued and sucked a pink nipple between her lips as he unclipped her bra behind her back.

“I hope they do,” Draco eye’s burned into her as he slid her bra down her arms. 

It was as if he had set her on fire with his very gaze, and she couldn’t think of another argument as to why he was not buried inside her at this very moment. “Inside me. Now,” she ordered and he waved his hand with a smirk, wandlessly vanishing the last barrier between their very wanton bodies. 

He slicked his cock with the arousal absolutely dripping from between her lower lips and then took one final look at her for consent. She nodded once, and he was about to cover her mouth with his own when she pushed him back for a moment. 

“Wait, did you seriously threaten any boy interested in me back at school?” Hermione questioned.

“Yes,” Draco answered, having absolutely no shame in his actions.

“Why?” Hermione frowned.

“Malfoy’s always get what they want,” he smirked, his former arrogance now fully back.

“We’ll be talking about that later.”

“Whatever you want, love,” with that he slowly sheathed himself fully inside her. Barely dampening the loud moan ripped from her throat with his own mouth. He pulled back only to bite her lip and moan himself.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, Hermione,” he said against her lips. He leaned her back so they were laying across her desk, shoving anything in their way to the floor. 

Lips and tongues were exploring every part of the others face and neck as Draco increased his agonizingly slow pace. 

“Harder, Draco,” Hermione pleaded in a high moan.

“My pleasure,” he smirked and lowered his mouth to suck on her breasts, alternating between the two so neither one felt neglected. He started pounding into her. Her desk whined as it was pushed across the floor. Draco cast a windless sticking charm at the offending furniture and maintained his brutal pace.

Minutes later, Hermione’s pleasure was rocketed to an all-time high until finally it broke over the edge and she cried out her release, shouting Draco’s name over and over again. He met her release with his own and she milked him for all he was worth. 

Slowly coming back down, their breathing labored, they looked up into each other’s eyes and identical smiles spread across their lips. With one final sweet kiss, Draco pulled out of her and with the attention only a lover could give, helped her hop down from her desk and gathered her clothing for her. She dressed until she was fully clothed sans underwear, sneaking glances at Draco the whole time. He would stop dressing himself every couple of minutes just to steal a kiss here and there. At one point she squeaked because he had pinched her bum when she was turned away clipping her bra back on. Evidently they had just enough time to right themselves before Hermione’s door to burst open.

Blaise stood there with a dazzling smile and looked like he wanted to hop up and down like a child receiving a present. 

“Did it work?” He shouted in glee.

“Blaise. Get out.” Draco commanded in a deep voice. 

Smirking with the most mischievous grin Hermione ever saw, Blaise backed out the door. 

“You’re telling me everything, partner. And next time use more than a simple locking charm.” 

The door slammed shut just in time and Draco’s shoe smacked against it; he had been aiming perfectly for Blaise’s head. 

Turning back to Hermione, Draco grinned and pulled her against him. 

“So, do you have any plans for dinner tonight?” he asked and softly nibbled on her ear lobe. 

“I have a date with my secret admirer.”

  
  



End file.
